Weeds in a Garden
by Briar DeVante
Summary: Hari Potter has been in between two conflicting worlds since she was turned at one year old. She now has to fight for lordship, so she can have any chance of changing the laws against her pack, while attending Hogwarts, and fighting against the expectations placed on her by both worlds.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

 **Cultivation of a Dandelion**

"Hari." The soft lisping voice of the toddler immediately made the young girl's heart sink before turning around to see large grey eyes staring back at her.

The little girl was tugging at her frayed dress. Her sire had stated that he needed to go on another supply visit to the nearby muggle village but hadn't had the time lately. He wouldn't admit it, but she could tell he was worried about the meeting later today. The entire pack was tense and even the youngest children could tell there was something going on.

"Hari, why are we hiding?" She lifts her arms up to be held and the young girl obliges. She caresses the child's blonde curls, feeling suddenly oversentimental over her inevitable departure.

The toddler tended to follow her around and continued to do so even has the others were packing. Her family had let her out of pity as they knew the next few days would be difficult for her.

She sighs before answering in a soft voice, "Because we have a meeting and you remember what's going to happen after it right?" The blonde girl shakes her incomprehensibly which made the older girl's stomach sink slightly.

"Kali," She runs her hand through the child's hair, "I'm going to go away for a while, maybe even a few years." Kali's face morphs into a slightly confused and lost expression. Hari understands that it might be too much for the two year old to fully grasp.

She decides to not spend the precious few minutes with her pack consoling a crying toddler and just rubs circles on the child's back while pacing in place. She stares down at her new attire and can't help but feel even more uneasy when she sees how different she looks.

Despite that fact the boots were incredibly soft, her unaccustomed feet ached. The dark blue jeans and oversized grey sweater helped to disguise her lean and sinewy frame. Usually she wore tank tops, shorts, and army boots for practicality and being so covered up in the middle of the summer is slightly disorientating.

Her sire had insisted on it stating with a tense smile, "Makes you almost look human."

She notices Marie coming over and places Kali down on the forest floor. The little girl runs to her mother but skits to a halt to look at her uncertainly.

Hari smiles encouragingly, "I'll see you later." Marie's sweet face contorted into pain at the covert omission. Her brown hair hides her face as she picks up her daughter and heads to the clearing two miles away, where the rest of the children and mothers were.

There were no goodbyes; she suspects because they don't want to ruin her composure, which while heartwarming, was unneeded.

The air shifts and she can smell the strange combination of blood and cedar that she had come to associate with her sire. As he steps from the tree line she observes the tightness around his cobalt blue eyes and is slightly surprised to see that he had shaved and pushed his shoulder length silver hair into a low ponytail. Otherwise, he looked the same, wearing only a pair of faded grass smeared jeans; something of a mercy as the man tended to go naked on a humid day like today.

'I guess the both of us look the part now.' She frowns slightly.

He reaches her and ruffles her hair roughly, making her gaze wide eyed up at him. Awkwardly shrugging off her incredulous expression, he places his hands in his pockets and grunts in her direction, "Remember, don't open your mouth."

Figuring this is the closest to him admitting he'll miss her, she straightens her shoulders and studies the forest.

Although her pack moves around sporadically and frequently, there was something about the England forests that remind her of home. The smell of fresh dirt and being surrounded by untamed nature always makes her stronger, surer of herself; she wonders what will happen if she's completely deprived, or worse if this meeting does not go well.

She can see impressions in the dirt from the tent poles, and ashes from the firepit. A camp that housed thirty people was cleared out within an hour.

Of course, they knew they were coming.

Her sire had announced that weeks ago but there was a delay in their response. She suspects that they needed to regroup and discuss but she can't help but feel annoyed by their assumption that they were allowed more time.

The arrogance from them was to be expected, wizards often acted that their time was more precious. It was made even more clear when an owl had been sent two hours ago saying they will meet within a few hours but didn't give a time.

'It's not like we don't have clocks.' She grumbles internally.

Suddenly, the breeze shifts unnaturally. She wrinkles her nose slightly as the acidic and overwhelming smell of London's smog permeates the woods. The artificial perfume was so intense that she had to fight the urge to sneeze.

Figures stumble through the foliage before reaching their clearing, more than were asked. The strange hollow clank of metal causes her ears to perk up and she fights the urge to growl when she sees the whirling electric blue eye of Mad-Eye Moody. Her sire rolls his shoulder, and sharply inclines his head to the left for their hidden audience.

She can see Albus Dumbledore behind the hunter and he walks with an air of casualness, as though he were just taking a stroll. His somber olive-green robes billowed around him gracefully. His eyes twinkle the instant they catch a glimpse of her and his fond smile reminds her of one a grandfather would give his favorite grandchild.

A sallow toned, greasy haired man with murder in his eyes was walking behind them. His black cavernous eyes pierce into her own. His mouth twists after giving her a once over, as though he had already decided she wasn't worth his time. She feels herself bristle at that and has to fight a smile when she sees him be barreled over by another man, but it falls when she recognizes the racing figure.

It was definitely the hair that tipped her off. No one, not even the children whose mothers exasperatedly admitted defeat and don't groom them for a few days have hair like hers. So thick that she has broken brushes time and time again if she's been a little too enthusiastic, and so wild that she wasn't surprised to learn her grandfather had invented Sleekeazy's Hair Potion.

Yes, she can definitely see the resemblance as the man practically barrels everyone over to reach her. A red-haired woman follows behind him, but she can barely note this as the man manages to launch himself at her.

She almost dodges out of instinct, but she feels like there is no escaping this. She cringes as his arms squeeze the life out of her and to her ever-growing horror, he begins to cry softly. His shuddering breaths wrack his body as he grips her with desperation.

He backs off until he is at arm's length but continues to grasp her shoulders. His hazel eyes roam over her face greedily, taking in her features and committing them to memory. A single tear runs down his face as his expression crumples before he begins hugging her again.

A dainty hand encloses her own as Lily Potter kneels beside her, so she is eye level with her. Hari starts when she realizes how similar their faces were. She had gotten a glimpse in the newspapers but hadn't had the opportunity to see a more detailed picture.

She scanned both of their faces with just as much intensity as they were giving her and is overwhelmed when she sees her features clearly expressed in theirs. Any differences between her mother and her were shared with her father.

Her breathing was picking up and she can feel the hairs on her arms rise as they continue to fuss over her. It's not that she's frightened; it's just she is unused to people pressing in her space so insistently. A lot of the pack remained a respectful distance from her as they were aware of her position.

All of her instincts were prickling by their proximity and she wanted to take a step back but didn't know if it would derail her sire's plans. She turns to him for guidance but sees that he has stepped away a few feet. She can tell by his upright posture that he's just the Alpha now.

His expression is unreadable as he stares at them. His eyes devoid of any life, yet they were intense as they surveyed them. He then casually and almost elegantly dodges as a fist almost manages to connect to his face.

She stares with wide eyes as she sees a black haired, overly well-dressed man practically snarl and chase her sire around the clearing. The nearby bushes shift, and she sees a pair of glowing gold eyes appear, she shakes her head slightly and they disappear, but she can feel their presence in the forest.

Turning back to the scene, this goes on for a few seconds, and the attacker growls with increasing ferocity as he fails to hit. Finally, he bellows, "Fight me like a man, Greyback!" Her sire raises his eyebrow before extending his leg and tripping the man.

There's an awkward silence where Hari wonders briefly if this is the heartwarming reunion her parents envisioned but feels that this is almost fitting. The Potters seem to understand that the moment is gone and step back, but remain close at her side and grip her shoulders with one hand each.

"Your outstanding performance is appreciated as always, Black." The greasy haired man drawls. The man, who is apparently named Black gets to his feet and almost lunges again but is stopped by James.

"Sirius." One word was all it took.

She thinks for one hopeful moment that this is the start to a diplomatic meeting but gets a glimpse at James' face and realizes that everything is going to go to hell if someone doesn't take charge. The blood in his eyes makes up for his lacking in his face. Glancing at her mother's, she sees that there isn't going to be a peace treaty coming from that end either.

Everyone else is relieved when a strong voice intones, "Now, this is not the time for violence." Albus Dumbledore steps forward with a slightly amused look on his face before his expression smooths out into neutrality.

Out of the corner of her eye, another man stands at the edge of the clearing. His hands are running through his brown hair nervously and she can smell the fear coming off him.

She sniffs the air delicately and catches the fragile bitter scent of Aconite. Recoiling slightly, she fights the urge to growl and manages to compose herself at the last second. The air in the forest was tense and for a few moments she thinks their audience will give themselves away.

Her sire smiles sardonically, "You bring a man that hunts our kind." He inclines his head to Moody who tilts his chin up defiantly, "And a neutered puppy, who doesn't even have the guts to stand in this clearing."

Her hair bristles when she sees the man step into the clearing at her sire's words. She frowns at him for his unknowing offense, as her sire had not meant for that to be an invitation.

"That's a little harsh." Dumbledore frowns disappointedly, "Alastor is an Auror and Mr. Lupin is a, for lack of a better word, a translator for this meeting." The reigning silence that came afterwards was tense and suddenly, she wanted to throw off her parents' hands in disgust at that statement.

The Alpha sneers, "How can he translate when he doesn't know the language?" He shakes his head harshly, "And Auror or not, that man has killed countless of my people." He gives the old man a hard look, "If you truly wanted this meeting to be peaceful, then you wouldn't have brought them."

Her parents' grip on her shoulder tightens to an almost painful degree.

Her sire seems to consider them before continuing, "No matter, we have greater things to speak of." He looks at her sharply, to remind her not to speak.

The Potters glare at him defiantly and she shifts from the discomfort of it all.

Dumbledore smiles at the Alpha, "Of course, Mr. Greyback." He extends his hands and gestures in her direction, "There is the matter of Ms. Potter." His eyes harden coldly, "Your actions are inexcusable, and the consequences are more far-reaching than I think you know."

Her sire smiles with tight lips, "She's turned."

A few moments of stunned silence before the entire clearing explodes.

"That's not true!" Lily whirls around before gripping her face. She examines her frantically as though she can see the change with her own eyes. Her hands are like claws on her shoulders.

James joins her but stops when he sees her eyes.

Sometimes the eyes change during the turning. It depends on the purity of their sire as well as how the magical core interacts with the foreign magic. As her sire is a pureblooded werewolf, her eyes were more intense. They were once bottle green as her mother's but have now darkened to emerald with a ring of fiery gold around her pupils. Fenrir later told her that it was sign she was going to be powerful as her core wasn't entirely overwhelmed with his magic.

While she had never been particularly vain about her eyes, she couldn't help but feel defensive when she sees the horror in her parents' faces. She bares her teeth at them slightly out of instinct, to which they jump back as though shocked.

Everyone else was screaming.

Voices distorted as the others rose to spoke over the other.

The only calm ones were her sire and Dumbledore.

The old man's face is icy but not surprised. He stares at Fenrir with great disapproval, as though he could make the man feel chastened by just a look.

The werewolf raises his eyebrow before casually saying, "Now you can see why we are having this meeting." Everyone is silent at his words.

Dumbledore frowns, "There isn't much to discuss." His eyes are shining with no small amount of anger, "Ms. Potter will return to her parents, and although I would hesitate to inform The Ministry of your actions, this will be considered."

Her sire barks out laughter for a moment, "You wouldn't dare bring them into this." He crosses his arms and leans back slightly, "You wouldn't risk a war between us." Everyone in the clearing visibly tenses and turns towards their leader, who's expression has become stony.

Fenrir is in his element, and she wonders again what he would have been if he wasn't a werewolf, surely a politician or a sophist. He waits a few moments to heighten the tension before intoning, "We can do this one of two ways." He smiles crookedly, "You can ignore what I have to say and take her back to your world, give her wolvesbane and hide her like the puppy." He sneers at Lupin with derision.

He turns back to Dumbledore, "But know that there could be a little leak." He pauses and tilts his head to the side, "Just a rumor and I highly doubt you can hide her nature for seven years like you did him." She can hear her parents grit their teeth, and return to their earlier position of grasping her shoulders with one hand each.

The man named Black, who looks like he wants to swing at Fenrir desperately shouts, "You're just going to ruin her life?!" He steps forward with his fists clenched, "For what?"

Fenrir instead of answering him gives Dumbledore a hard look, "Or," He continues as though the man had not spoken, "We can work things out here and prevent that from happening. I'm not entirely sure if Britain will be ready for another war, especially with the infectious nature of my kind." He bares his teeth in a mockery of a smile at the end of his speech.

Everyone waits for the elderly man's response to this with bated breath.

His head is bowed slightly for a moment and when he lifts it, his expression is completely wiped of any of its previous geniality. He glares coldly at Fenrir and they both are unwilling to drop each other's gaze.

Something passes between them, whether its understanding or not is not known but both of them unstiffen by a slight margin and both seem to already know how this meeting is going to end. They are just speaking about it for a formality.

"What are your terms?" His tired voice echoes throughout the space and his followers all turn to him with a stunned expression, save the sallow man. It's as though they expected a miracle from the man and she can't help but snort internally by their blind trust.

In the Alpha's voice is a smile, "She will have contact with the pack and will be with us during the holidays."

James steps forward, releasing her shoulder before shouting, "Hell no!" He turns to Dumbledore with wild, pleading eyes, "This isn't a custody battle! He should be rotting in Azkaban!" The man continued to yell at the old man's direction but the stern yet compassion look he received made his words die in his throat.

He stares at the floor, shaking from his rage.

Lily's free hand is covering her mouth and she seems to be fighting herself from attacking her sire. Hari reaches up and squeezes the hand on her shoulder. She drops her hand when her mother's tearful gaze turns to her and stares at the ground.

"James, there is not really an option here. Would you prefer your daughter living the rest of her life being judged for something she cannot control?" The older man sighs heavily before turning to Fenrir, "That will be allowed but it will be Ms. Potter's decision on the frequency of her visits and communication." She relaxes at the man's words slightly and her mother seems to take this as a sign that she will avoid her sire, as she gives her a reassuring squeeze.

"I think we can both agree for the wellbeing of Ms. Potter that she will live a relatively normal life." Her sire's face becomes solemn, but his eyes are glinting slightly.

The old man coughs roughly, "She has that right and your actions will not take that from her." He turn to her with a strained smile, "My dear, I am happy you are home. We will discuss your admission into Hogwarts."

He nods and her parents that that as a signal to grip her arms before disappearing with her in tow.

The last thing she sees is her sire giving her an unreadable expression and the yellow eyes in the forest blink.


End file.
